


Things are looking up

by tothetardisandbeyond



Series: It's always something new [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Ron Weasley, Daily Prophet, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fred Weasley Lives, Harry Potter is a Good Friend, M/M, Ministry Balls, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley has issues, Sort Of, They play chess and send owls, Well he tries, an owl does bring them together eventually, he's trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tothetardisandbeyond/pseuds/tothetardisandbeyond
Summary: It really just started with a curse and some chess. Or seduction via messing with the Daily Prophet and joking about how not together you are.P.S. Probably not totally necessary to read the prior work, but I do reference stuff from it, so it might read a little easier if you do.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Series: It's always something new [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077638
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	Things are looking up

Ron doesn’t know when he realizes that the war wasn’t the hard part. Maybe it’s when the war’s been over for ages. Everyone’s moving on, and he’s struck by the fact that his particular skillset seems to be restricted to “helping Harry Potter.” And that’s kind of shit for any kind of résumé.

So he works with the twins most of the time. It’s a bit stressful though. George keeps a weather eye peeled after Fred almost died. Even Percy’s around quite a bit. Ron just likes to help out when possible.

There’s something soothing about fiddling with their inventions and squirrelling the latest Skiving Snackbox into Percy’s lunch.

But he can feel the twins looking at him a little too closely sometimes as if they’re remembering how many times they almost lost their younger brother without even realizing it. They’re all a little more careful around him.

Ron wonders if the bags under his eyes give him away.

oOo

He wakes up sometimes, dreaming of leaving the tent that day. He sometimes hears Hermione’s screams in Malfoy Manor. He sees Harry dead in Hagrid’s arms more times than he can count.

He stops sleeping through the night, and the twins can tell.

It gets to the point where Percy silently slides a vial of Dreamless Sleep towards him across the counter in the shop.

Ron really wants to refuse, but he thinks about lying in bed and staring at the ceiling until he passes out from exhaustion. He accepts it with a quiet thanks.

It helps for a little while.

Until it doesn’t.

He’s careful. He never takes it often enough to become habit-forming.

But eventually, it stops working, and he’s back to counting a seemingly neverending string of sheep.

oOo

He kind of surprises himself when he ends up joining the Ministry a few years after Harry and Hermione. Harry’s an Auror after all, and Ron knows himself even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He fully expects himself to turn out jealous and bitter and exactly like fourth year.

Surprise, surprise though. He’s really good.

It’s not that Harry’s not. Harry’s objectively a better fighter, but no one can match Ron at strategy.

He kind of feels vindicated. It’s the first time in a long time where people look at Harry and Ron and don’t zone out after seeing Harry.

It takes him awhile to realize the glimmer of something warm and earned on his own merit. It’s pride.

oOo

That first day in the field is the first time he gets a full night’s rest in a long while.

oOo

He figures things are looking up. He’s got the girl, and he’s got the job.

He waves away the thought about how much he’s been fighting with Hermione.

oOo

“What are you even doing, Ronald? I just don’t even recognize you anymore. You’re just so reckless. What happened to chess and strategy? You’re just rushing in-”

“That’s what I’m good at, ‘Mione! I’m trying. I know I’m not as smart as you or as good a fighter as Harry-“

“Don’t bring him into this! I know you’re fully capable of assessing whether you need to risk your life or not. And look, Ron, this isn’t the war anymore. You’ve always been worth more than a sacrifice to get other people into position-“

“That’s not what this is about-“

“It kind of is! You’re just treating yourself as some expendable chess piece, because apparently, you haven’t changed since you were eleven and somehow you’ve gotten it into your head that the only use the Auror department has for you, maybe even the whole wizarding world, is for you to be a stepping stone for ‘more important people.’ And I’m starting to wonder if I can deal with not knowing if you’ll make it home. At least when we weren’t together, you had the decency to recognize how much it would hurt me.”

Ron shuts his mouth at that.

oOo

Things kind of all go to shit after that.

There’s the whole bloody curse thing at work.

Then there’s Hermione.

oOo

The curse is a blur. One moment he sees Zabini, eyes widening in growing recognition. The next, he’s pushed Zabini out of the way, and his arm is burning. He can see blood everywhere.

He mercifully passes out to the sound of his own name.

oOo

It’s not like he doesn’t expect the breakup after all this. He’s just surprised that he’s the one to say it.

“-you’re just not careful enough with your own life, Ronald! I’m not saying you shouldn’t have saved Zabini, but you just threw yourself in there. I thought it was just Harry, but honestly, I’m wondering if you’re worse than he is sometimes-“

“We should break up,” he blurts out. He almost wants to take the words back, but just as he opens his mouth, he closes it.

He means it.

Hermione closes her mouth slowly.

“I kind of want to say no,” she says after a second. “But- and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I just…”

“…don’t really know why?” he finishes hesitantly.

She shrugs a bit helplessly. “Yeah…I think there was only so long we could last with the way things were going.”

He looks away briefly. There’s absolutely a few tears streaming down his face.

“I’ll always love you, you know? And I’m sorry, okay? I don’t listen and I’ve probably never listened to you until it was too late. I really do hear what you’re saying. I just don’t have anything else-“ he cuts himself off. He takes in a shaky breath.

Hermione looks at him for a second and sighs.

“You know I’ll always love you, too. You know that, right?” she asks, putting a hand on his arm.

For the first time in a while, he feels calm. He knows she means well. He’s just an idiot with a complex.

“Yeah, ‘Mione. I know. It’s just…it hasn’t been…”

“…it hasn’t been working for a little while now,” she finishes ruefully. “I know you’re good at what you do. I just worry. I’ll always worry about you. But…I don’t think we work as a couple.”

He looks up at the ceiling and blinks a bit. He tries not to think about the last time they actually enjoyed their time together and wonders if it was during the war.

“Yeah…I figured. You’re always going to be part of the family though,” he says finally, wiping his face a bit before looking back at her. “I know it’s probably the last thing on your mind right now, but I know you, and I know that’s going to bother you sometime later tonight. But you’re definitely still family, and Mum will have your head if you’re not there for dinner this month. I swear I’ll talk to her so we don’t have a repeat of that stupid tiny Easter egg, because she believed that rubbish in _Witch Weekly_ -“

“I know,” she interrupts, brushing away a few tears of her own. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. Ugh, I don’t know why I’m crying right now. We’re not even screaming at each other.”

“I mean, we _are_ still breaking up,” he laughs a little wetly. “We’ve been together through a quite a bit. I think I’d be a bit upset if this didn’t upset you at all.”

“You’re right,” she says jokingly. “When did you learn so much about emotions?”

“Right around the time when I realized we’re kind of better off as really good friends,” he says, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Leave it to me to finally get more than the range of a teaspoon right when we’re breaking up, right?”

“I know you’re trying to make me laugh, and it’s working,” Hermione replies, swiping her sleeve across her face. “Now come here and give me a hug before we ignore each other for a little while.”

“We _are_ okay though, right?” he asks, after pulling her into a hug. “Or like, we will be, future tense? Not to ruin the mood or anything…”

He trails off at the thwack against his arm. “Ow, ‘Mione, it was an honest question!”

“And that was an honest answer!” she laughs. “We’re good surprisingly. I always thought if we ever broke up it would be awful.”

She mimics an explosion. “Like that.”

He chuckles a bit. “Me too. I’m not saying it’s not painful, but I feel like you’d kill me if I hadn’t matured at least a little bit since school.”

Hermione looks at him for a moment before she squeezes him again. “You’re a much better man than I give you credit for, Ron. I just think you need someone other than me to see it.”

“This is probably a really bad time to tell you I might also like men, isn’t it?” he says, immediately wishing he could take it back.

“What,” she says.

oOo

It doesn’t change the breakup. And it was very poor timing on his part. But as with everything else, Hermione takes it in stride.

She very seriously thanks him for feeling comfortable enough to tell her, and then immediately punches him in the shoulder.

“Oi, that hurt, too!” he says indignantly.

“That’s for deciding now was a good time. It’s not that I’m not happy you told me,” Hermione replies, but she does seem more relaxed. “Seriously, this is wonderful for you. I’m very happy you finally figured that out. But honestly, Ron, timing.”

“Fair enough,” he shrugs. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking, and it…sort of slipped out.”

Hermione just sighs.

oOo

He does manage to wait a bit to tell Harry. And there’s also Harry’s whole thing with Malfoy.

oOo

“You’re…what?”

“With him,” Harry says, looking nervous.

Ron just stares for a second before breaking into a grin. Harry edges away slightly, so he tries to tamp it down a bit.

“Like absolutely, definitely with him? Finally, I might add. And you let me find out because of Parkinson screeching it off the rooftops?”

Harry cringes. “Sorry?”

Ron continues grinning. “Look…mate, not gonna lie, I’ve been waiting for this day for ages. Took you long enough. You’ll never live this down though.”

Harry blinks at him in confusion.

Ron smirks. “You really did get your erstwhile lover from Hogwarts. I’m impressed.”

It’s totally worth it, even when Harry shoves him out of the booth and steals his Butterbeer.

oOo

He does bring up the also liking men thing a few days later.

Ron feels like there should’ve been more fanfare about the whole bisexuality thing, but Harry just looks at him and says, “Krum.” As if that’s an explanation.

Ron’s not completely oblivious though. It kind of is.

So there’s that.

They spend a surprisingly long time discussing Oliver Wood and how they truly never stood a chance being exposed to that sheer amount of muscle at such a young age.

Ron idly mentions that Oliver’s been hanging about the shop a bit lately. Percy seems to be extra frustrated by his presence and is constantly shooing him away from the merchandise.

Harry doesn’t know what to make of this development.

Ron despairs and tells Harry that Malfoy must be exhausted carrying every ounce of romance in the relationship.

Harry looks affronted and attempts to steal some of his coffee.

Ron jinxes his tongue to the roof of his mouth and takes another few sips.

“That’s for making me find out about you and Malfoy from Parkinson.”

Harry wordlessly casts _Evanesco_ on the rest of Ron’s drink just as he’s about to take another sip.

He waves away the jinx. “And that’s for not telling me you like men-“

“Hold on, those are two very different things-“

“Are they, Ron?” Harry mutters. “Have you really seen me interested in that many other blokes? Like seriously interested?”

Ron stops and thinks. “Right, I forgot. You’re Malfoy-sexual.”

He moves his mouth a few times before realizing Harry cast _Silencio_ under the table.

“Very mature,” he mouths.

Harry just grins.

oOo

Things might not actually be going to shit, he thinks, in a rare moment of introspection. It’s just everything’s changing, and he’s not sure how to deal with any of it. Even work seems to be settling down now that his arm seems fine and the case turned out alright.

oOo

He’s finally packed up and determined to run out on his lunch break. He’s tired, his recently healed arm is throbbing, and he just wants to lay down. The junior Aurors can pick up the slack for a bit. If they manage to explode something, that’s officially Harry’s problem, he thinks gleefully.

“Weasley,” he hears from behind him.

He struggles not to groan as he turns around with a polite smile on his face.

“Zabini,” he says politely enough, trying to secretly hint that he’s been up for two days and desperately wants to throw himself on his bed. But he and Zabini are on okay enough terms. There’s no ongoing feud as far as he knows. And Zabini’s always been polite enough in passing before the curse, so Ron actively tries to look less dead inside.

The other wizard is a little ways away from him in the hallway, looking like he clearly spotted Ron and darted out of his office in a hurry. There’s a well-tailored vest with the kind of embroidery that must’ve been handsewn in Italy. But Ron’s eyes are drawn to the rolled-up shirt sleeves.

He must’ve really rushed out, because there are no robes in sight, leaving smartly cut slacks on display.

Ron wants to say that he’s completely unaffected, but he’s got eyes and Zabini is one hell of a man. Ron quickly decides to stop looking at the bloke like he’s wondering how those thighs would feel around him.

“Weasley, sorry to accost you like this. But I don’t see you around all that often, so it was kind of now or never.”

“Not a problem,” Ron replies, lying through his teeth. He almost means it, trying to push aside the tempting thought of a shower. He catches Zabini looking away from his hair. It must be a mess, he thinks, staring at the utter perfection of Zabini’s crisp haircut in dismay. “What can I do for you?”

”I know you have no reason to like or trust me, but you saved my life, so I owe you a life-“

“Nope, don’t say it!” Ron groans, raising his hand to cut him off. “No life debts.”

“But-“

”Just no, alright?” he says uncomfortably. “Just buy me dinner or something if you really feel like you owe me something.”

Zabini looks at him dubiously. “I thought a Gryffindor would definitely like to lord a life debt over me.”

“I’ve had how many people try to claim life debts. It’s exhausting. It happened, let’s just get over it. I’m glad you’re alive and all that. I just don’t want your bloody life debt.”

“I can’t just-“

“Mate, you absolutely can. I’m too fucking tired for this. I barely remember you from Hogwarts. If you were evil or something before, you’ve clearly turned over some kind of new leaf to get here,” Ron replies gesturing at him. “And I know you’re at least somewhat friends with Harry, so probably a little less evil. I wasn’t just going to let you die. There’s no need for a life debt. I was just in the right place at the right time.”

“You honestly don’t want anything from me?” Zabini asks, fiddling idly with a cufflink that Ron couldn’t afford on two year’s pay.

“Nah,” Ron replies, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “So if you’ll excuse me-“

“What about dinner? Friday night?” Zabini interrupts. He looks distracted, as if Ron’s suddenly too close.

Ron thinks he almost catches an aborted once-over, but he’s clearly seeing things. Zabini looks like a god, and he’s just another redheaded Weasley.

At Ron’s raised eyebrows, he continues wryly. “Not like that, Weasley. Just a show of gratitude. You did just suggest it. And maybe…do you still play chess?”

Ron looks at him and that vest for a moment. This is possibly a very poor life choice. He shrugs. “You know what, why not?”

oOo

They end up at Ron’s apartment for some reason. Probably because they realized it might be odd to bring a screaming chessboard with them to a Muggle restaurant.

Ron licks some salt off his fingers.

“The Muggles really knew what they were doing when they invented chips,” he says happily.

“You’re sure I can’t get you something else, Weasley? I did say I would treat you to dinner,” Zabini says, looking faintly disgusted.

“All good,” Ron replies, wiping his hand on a napkin before moving his bishop along the board. “I told you I just wanted to thrash you at chess, Zabini. You’re not going to distract me with fucking posh food where everything’s weird and tiny and there’s too many forks.”

Zabini laughs. “Your loss, Weasley. I’m quite sure I told you there was no limit. If you wanted to try something new, you were absolutely welcome to. But you’re right. Forks are a tricky business.”

There’s an almost imperceptible emphasis on the word “new.” Ron’s not an idiot. He knows Zabini’s saying he’d be happy to pay for something that Ron wouldn’t typically be able to afford. He knows it’s probably not meant maliciously, but years of the Slytherins’ comments fill his mind.

The rest of Zabini’s response just flies right over his head.

Ron avoids looking around his apartment, knowing it probably only heightens the difference between them. It’s quite a bit smaller than Grimmauld Place, but Harry was right. He needed a change, and he’s proud of where he lives now. Breaking up with Hermione might’ve been the smartest decision he ever made. They’re still friends, and hey, he may have found that he kind of has an eye for interior design. He’s actively getting his life together (kind of.)

Can’t escape the fact that his place is clearly smaller than whatever bloody chateau Zabini probably lives in.

“Look,” Ron says finally. “I appreciate it, mate, but I just wanted some fish and chips, alright?”

Zabini apparently knows when to give up unlike some of Ron’s other friends and raises his hands slightly.

“I’ll drop it. Just wanted you to know you had options. You did save my life after all.”

Ron shrugs uncomfortably. “It was nothing. You don’t have to give me expensive food as if I’m a charity case, just because-“

Zabini cuts him off. “This has nothing to do with how much money you have, Weasley. I didn’t see anyone else rushing to save me, did you?”

He really wants to disagree somehow, but there’s not much to say. The other Aurors were busy taking care of the suspects. No one else saw the curse aimed at their consultant’s back. No one was paying attention like they should have been either, he adds privately. So he was the only one who saw the curse. Didn’t really think. Kind of just jumped in there without a second thought. Not the smartest decision honestly. He does get why Hermione was upset. But it just happened. He can’t really bring himself to totally regret the outcome.

“I know you would’ve saved anyone else in that situation,” Zabini continues, rolling his sleeves back down as he finishes with the fish and chips he’d been poking at with a fork. “It’s obviously your job. But I just wanted to say that I appreciate it. It might be all in a day’s work for you, but I thought I was going to die a very dull death.”

Ron doesn’t really know what to say to any of that, so of course, he says something truly inane instead. “You consider being torn apart a dull death?”

Zabini laughs, slightly bitterly.

“Seven stepfathers, Weasley. All famous and all dead. Each in exceedingly creative ways. You can do the math, I’m sure.”

“…your mother killed them all?” he asks, sounding slightly horrified to his own ears.

“Allegedly,” Zabini smirks, but there’s an edge to the humor. “The point being that I can’t die by something as common as that. Been there, done that. She hardly has time for me when I’m alive. I don’t want to imagine how quickly she’d move on from such a tasteless death.”

“Ah,” Ron says, now truly feeling out of his depth. “Overshadowed a bit then?”

“You have no idea,” the other wizard responds.

It’s Ron’s turn to laugh. He throws his head back, honestly unable to stop the chuckles for a little while.

Zabini’s staring at his throat when he eventually manages to bite out, “Seriously? Six siblings, seven if you count Harry. I get it.”

That wins him an appraising look.

“Maybe you do, Weasley. Maybe you do,” he says thoughtfully.

They spend a couple moments in silence while Ron muses over having something…possibly in common with Blaise Zabini of all people.

“Checkmate,” Zabini breaks the lull in conversation a little while later, reaching over to slide a rook in front of Ron’s king.

“Bloody hell,” Ron replies in frustration, pushing aside his empty plate.

He looks up, expecting some jeering or smirking at least from the Slytherin across from him. Didn’t have to like someone to thank them after all. And honestly, Ron’s not really up to trading barbs right now. They’d been having a pleasant enough time before.

But Zabini just smiles mysteriously. “I’ve had a surprisingly nice time, Weasley. I’m sure you just let me win, so…feel free to say no, but I’d like to play again some time.”

Ron blinks. It’s not that they didn’t have a nice enough time, but it was just that. Nothing super special. He didn’t wow Zabini with his jokes or something. So what did he really want?

“Sure,” he manages, wincing at the noncommittal response.

But Zabini’s smile widens as if he doesn’t notice Ron’s seeming reluctance.

“Most of my friends don’t have the patience for chess,” he explains. “I don’t think you quite hate me, so I thought I’d ask.”

“I don’t know you well enough to hate you,” Ron says, and he immediately wants to smack himself in the face.

Zabini just laughs. “Give it some time.”

And with that and a polite smile, the man departs.

Ron is left looking at his arse as he walks to the fireplace.

Ron has a feeling, very briefly, that he might be fucked.

oOo

Work passes relatively quickly, flitting from case to increasingly high stakes case. He’s in charge of these massive sting operations, and despite loving the challenge, he’s undoubtedly losing sleep. At least it’s not the nightmares.

He doesn’t have time to track down Zabini or anything, so the invitation for chess goes unanswered for a couple months.

There’s not really anywhere to hide at the next Ministry ball though.

Harry and Malfoy are canoodling somewhere, and Hermione is off talking with some of her colleagues from her department. So Ron is largely left to his own devices. He darts around some witches and wizards twittering about the latest eligible bachelors to one of the new employees. His name comes up a couple times, but his ears perk up at the mention of Zabini.

He’s instantly annoyed though.

“I’ve heard he sleeps around quite a bit,” a gossipy Ministry employee says, popping another bite of treacle tart into their mouth. “Hot though he may be, he’ll never settle down for you. And he always keeps people at arm’s length. Doesn’t let anyone really get close to him.”

Ron hopes it glues their mouth shut.

“I’ve heard that, too,” says another nosy person. “He supposedly doesn’t sleep with anyone twice. At the rate he’s going, he’ll have slept through half of wizarding Britain.”

Ron “accidentally” steps on their foot as he slides by them.

Eventually, he finds some of his friends in the Auror department and mingles a bit with the other employees for some time. He continues to hear the rumor mill spinning tall tales about who Zabini is going to pick up at this ball. Eventually, he’s spitting mad and goes to get another drink.

Rumors plagued him in Hogwarts, and he’s the first to admit he’s usually been the gullible one who believes them. But he’s been trying to be better, and he’s seen how many rumors are still harassing Harry.

Suffice it to say that this has nothing to do with finding Zabini slightly…interesting.

Ron’s lying through his teeth as usual, but the end result is that he still feels his temper rising with every bit of gossip he hears.

Some people make the mistake of trying to engage him in such conversation, but he supposes his handy trick of turning beet red when he’s angry scares them away.

There’s still far too many of them.

oOo

He’s hovering around, nursing his Firewhiskey when he hears someone clear their throat behind him.

“Have you heard-“

“No, I have _not_ heard about Zabini’s latest escapades,” he cuts in furiously. “And I don’t care who he sleeps with as that’s his business and absolutely none of yours.”

Ron turns around and has to struggle not to gape.

The wizard is wearing extremely fashionable robes, and Ron truly wants to stare at him all evening.

He picks his chin up off the floor long enough to faintly nod a greeting. “Zabini…having a pleasant evening?”

A gaggle of the rumor mongers pass by, tittering away. Ron wants to scream.

There’s a slight chuckle. “As much as I can seeing as I’m here. You?”

“Not at all,” he replies baldly, trying not to seem affected by the laugh it wins him.

There’s silence for a second. Ron sees the group eyeing them speculatively and makes a decision.

“Do you…do you maybe want to get out of here? We could play chess?” he asks, sure that the group will be telling tales of how Zabini seduced a Weasley this time.

Zabini stares at him for a moment, and Ron thinks he sees what looks like gratitude flit across his face. And then it’s gone.

He nods hesitantly.

Ron smiles and leads the way toward the exit.

The whispers pick up on their way out, but Ron keeps a polite, if tight, smile on his face the entire time.

Eventually, he gets tired of the appraising looks, and Ron says fuck it, grabbing Zabini’s wrist. Zabini flinches for a second, and Ron silently pleads for him to work with him. A second passes and Zabini thankfully relaxes. The whispers grow to what seems like a roar as they cross the ballroom.

Yeah, Ron absolutely does not give a flying fuck about what they think.

oOo

Ron’s had plenty of experience with sneaking about the Ministry, and he does his best to avoid as many nosy employees as possible for Zabini’s sake. There’s only so much sneaking they can do though, so Ron slides his hand down to lace their fingers together. Zabini doesn’t move this time, and just squeezes Ron’s fingers silently as they make their way to the Floo.

Darting around corridors and hiding in alcoves, pressed slightly too close together. Ron’s heart is beating faster and faster.

Eventually, they make it to his apartment and settle into his comfy armchairs.

“So…do you want to tell me what that was all about?” Zabini asks.

Ron tries to shrug nonchalantly. “I didn’t like how they were speaking about you.”

“I gathered,” Zabini says dryly. “Any particular reason why?”

“I’m learning to be less of a shithead,” Ron says after a moment. “Rumors suck.”

Zabini just stares. “You…willingly subjected yourself to rumors- because that’s exactly what you did by walking out with me, by the way- because rumors suck.”

“Yes,” Ron replies, raising his chin.

“You know you’re going to be in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow, right? ‘ _Zabini’s latest conquest_?’” Zabini asks in disbelief.

“So?” Ron says scornfully. “I’m someone’s conquest every other day of the week in that rag. Besides they’ll take one look at you and one look at me and assume you just wanted-“

Ron closes his mouth with a click.

Zabini raises his eyebrows. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“…don’t look at me like that. I just meant that they’re going to see how attractive you are and then look at me and wonder what the hell you’re doing with me- lowering your standards even-“

“Have you even seen yourself?” Zabini interrupts, looking faintly angry.

Ron’s not sure what the other wizard has to be angry about, but it’s…hot.

“Every day in the mirror,” he replies glibly. “I’m not blind. I know I’m not like Harry or-“

“No, you’re not like Harry,” Zabini says impatiently. “Your hair doesn’t look like a bird’s nest. It’s just shy of messy to the point where you want to run your hands through it. And your shoulders are so broad, I have it on good authority that people regularly swoon over them-“

“Who the hell is ‘swooning’ over me?” Ron butts in, making air quotes and trying to ignore how his heart rate skyrockets.

“I am- I mean, I’m sure there are many people,” Zabini hesitates.

“Yeah,” Ron responds, running a hand through his hair. “That’s what I figured. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just drop it. If you want- Do…do you still want to play chess?”

Zabini seems to deflate a bit. “Sure.”

There’s an awkward silence for a little while until they set up the board.

Then Zabini brings up Quidditch and things settle down.

Zabini listens to him ramble about the Chudley Canons and doesn’t mock him for the orange jersey sitting proudly on his wall. Ron slowly forgets the wistful feeling that Zabini could find him attractive.

Conversation comes surprisingly easily and stays light enough after that. It’s pleasant.

They still don’t know each other. But ensconced in his place with whatever expensive food Zabini orders later, it feels like exactly like what he wanted out of this dreary evening.

He’s not sure how to feel about it.

Zabini is good company and just…fucking gorgeous.

Ron realizes he’s more than slightly fucked.

oOo

As predicted the headline reads “ _Zabini’s Latest? Granger’s ex: Ronald Weasley._ ”

Ron accidentally sets Harry’s copy on fire and has to shoot a quick _Aguamenti_ at it, muttering hasty apologies.

Harry looks sympathetic and lights it up again.

oOo

Ron doesn’t want to call it a pattern, because he has other friends and he spends time with them. He makes time to help Neville out in the Hogwarts’ grounds, hunts for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks with Luna, and nods vaguely at Malfoy when he’s around. He also regularly sees Seamus for a pint, hangs out with Harry more often than not, and makes times to deliver coffee to Hermione. Maybe things haven’t changed in some respects, but he feels less like a colossal fuck up than when they were dating, so he counts it as a win.

But yeah, Zabini is slowly popping up all over the place. And the _Prophet_ is loving it.

oOo

It starts pretty innocuously. First, a few more balls that end with them sneaking out.

The _Daily Prophet_ is having a field day about Ronald Weasley possibly being more than a one night stand.

Ron doesn’t care.

He’s starting to enjoy the time he spends with Zabini.

Ron thrashes him at chess. Zabini thrashes him back. Then chess turns into dinner at the Leaky, because apparently, that’s where everyone has…meetings around here. And it’s nice. Nothing super deep, but they joke around about supposedly being together and overall have a good time.

“Are we ignoring the smirking happening over by the bar?” Zabini asks in amusement.

Ron doesn’t bother looking over at Seamus and Dean. He just groans.

“I’m sorry about them. They’re…interested because they haven’t seen me spend time with many people other than Harry and Hermione. They’ll-“ he says, starting to raise his voice for their eavesdroppers’ benefit, “get back to their fucking job soon.”

Dean gratifyingly elbows Seamus, and they both pretend to look busy. Ron can tell they’re still paying attention though, because Seamus has just made the same drink three times in a row without a single customer in sight.

Ron sighs. “I tried.”

Zabini just laughs. “It’s not a problem. They’re not exactly the _Prophet_ , right?”

“The _Prophet_ is ten times sneakier and more annoying than those idiots,” Ron agrees.

oOo

And then they’re getting ice cream. Zabini’s passing by the twins’ shop and decides to stop by to say hello.

They run into Harry pulling a breathlessly excited Hermione towards a bookstore. Ron politely declines joining them to stare at Hermione staring at books, but he takes the suggestion of visiting a newly reinstated Florean Fortescue’s.

It’s relaxing.

Zabini does, however, spend an inordinate amount of time staring at Ron while he’s licking at his ice cream.

Ron tries not to dwell on it much. He’s clearly overthinking things. He’s just making a new friend, and for some odd reason, Zabini enjoys spending time with him.

oOo

They hang out somewhat regularly, mostly at Ron’s place to get a respite from the rumors, up until Zabini says he’s going to be overseas on Ministry business for three weeks.

Ron, of course, doesn’t think much of it. Sure, he finds it a little odd that his new acquaintance is telling him. But then Zabini goes, and Ron is struck by the fact that he’s apparently been seeing Zabini almost every other day for a couple months now.

He has a faint premonition of doom.

Trelawney would be pleased.

oOo

The _Prophet_ of course immediately surmises that the two of them have broken up.

Ron finds this hilarious and immediately owls Zabini.

While he’s waiting for a response, it occurs to him that this is the first time he’s ever owled the man.

_Zabini,_

_I want you to know our tawdry affair is over according to the trusted source, the Daily Prophet._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Weasley_

A couple days go by before an unfamiliar owl is rapping at his window with a talon in the dead of night. He stumbles over and places a few Knuts in the pouch on the owl’s leg. Who knows if that’s the right amount, but it’s clearly too early in the morning for this.

He hastily unfurls the parchment.

_Weasley,_

_Our love didn’t have a chance. Take me back?_

_Forever yours,_

_Zabini_

Ron laughs and laughs.

oOo

There’s more owls. Short missives about how Ron’s left him and he’ll never fall in love again. Slightly longer anecdotes with sparse, almost heavily redacted, details about his work.

Ron’s still not sure what exactly Zabini does. He doesn’t ask. But he enjoys the stories of Boot getting trapped in a cupboard and Abbott having to free him while fighting a group of otters cursed into thinking he was a fish.

The owls are funny and become slightly more frequent until they’re speaking rather regularly again.

He’s slowly coming to expect the next quip and story.

There’s nothing serious about it. It’s exaggerated flirting based on the idiocy of the papers. But one time, Zabini mistakenly signs off with Blaise, and Ron’s stomach does a funny little flip.

Ron tries to convince himself he does not have the beginnings of a crush on Blaise Zabini. He fails miserably.

oOo

_Weasley,_

_I see the Prophet says I’m missing your luscious red hair. And counting the hours until you forgive me so I can finally run my fingers through it again._

_Zabini_

_Zabini,_

_That’s funny. The Prophet also says I’m daydreaming of you fucking me one more time._

_Weasley_

oOo

Ron admits things are getting…a bit out of hand.

oOo

When Zabini gets back, Ron isn’t quite sure how to face him. They’ve been sharing these owls. And while there’s been tons of potential flirting, it’s all been under the guise of just messing around. But it seems like they’re at least friends now.

He tries to push down the feelings of absolute irreverent lust. Fails miserably as usual. Who’s he fooling? It went a bit beyond lust for him a long time ago.

Regardless, he knows when Zabini will be back, so he stops outside Zabini’s office and decides to grow a pair and invite the bloke over.

They’re friends, right?

oOo

Zabini is evidently free that night, what with it being Friday and all. And Zabini’s apparently always in charge of food when they spend time at Ron’s place, because he sidles through the Floo with so much Indian food that even Ron, the notoriously bottomless pit, stares.

“What?” Zabini asks. “Did I not bring enough?”

Ron laughs at the question, but hurries forwards to help him.

“No, no, it’s just- mate, this is so much food.”

Zabini looks a bit crestfallen, so Ron hurries to add, “Lucky for you, I’ve been hungry for hours.”

He’s lying, of course. He’d already eaten by the time he invited Zabini over. But those are just details.

oOo

It’s surprisingly nice to see Zabini in person again.

It’s not like Ron forgot how well they got on. After all, they were spending more time together over the couple months before he left. But they’d also spent a few weeks not doing that and corresponding exclusively through widely exaggerated banter.

They mainly stick to small talk. He asks innocuous questions about work and carefully skirts around landmines like the war and some of school.

Zabini answers his questions and asks his own.

It’s just…relaxing to talk to the bloke. There’s no mention of the owls or the Prophet. It’s just two blokes chilling.

A couple times, Ron just wants to say fuck it and tell him about how alone he felt during the war and how his own insecurities have always led to him fucking up. And how he’s kind of starting to like Zabini, but he’s too scared of fucking that up, because he likes being friends and obviously, they’re just going along with this to fuck with the _Prophet_. He bites his tongue though. They’re just having fun.

But Zabini is charming. He even lets Ron ramble on about the twins’ business, making intelligent comments about various inventions. Just having fun, right?

All in all, it’s very nice.

Zabini eventually quiets down to eat his own food. Ron pushes some cauliflower across his plate. He catches Zabini glancing at him a few times throughout, but just assumes there’s some food on his face or something. So he’s surprised when the wizard flings his fork down later.

“Weasley,” Zabini says. “I apologize if I’m reading this completely wrong, but between those owls and you-“

Ron throws all caution to the wind and doesn’t let him finish. “You’re not. Reading things wrong, I mean.”

“Oh, good,” the Slytherin responds, and he pushes the food safely aside before stalking over towards Ron’s chair.

Ron can confidently say he stops thinking at the slide of fingers across his shoulders.

oOo

He’s laying in bed with a heavy arm over him, and he’s debating cutting and running, before he remembers that this is his place.

His mind is running worst case scenarios when Zabini nudges him. “You’re thinking up a storm, Weasley. I can practically feel you panicking. You good?”

“Yup,” Ron lies unconvincingly. He clears his throat. “I mean, definitely. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He winces when his voice sounds an octave too high.

Zabini sighs and sits up, uncaring of the blankets pooling at his waist. He takes one look at Ron’s face before turning to slide his legs over the side of the bed.

He’s pulling on clothes and edging towards the Floo before Ron even really registers it. “You look like you need some time to…think, so I’m going to head on home. I had a good time, Weasley. But I think you need to go rant to one of your pals right now. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Ron wants to say something, anything, but he just fucking _nods_ before Zabini disappears into the fire.

oOo

He mopes for another hour or so before Harry slams the door open, wand at the ready.

“Bloody hell, Harry. What was that for? Why are you even here?” he says, clutching his pillow.

Harry looks around before lowering the wand. “I got a cryptic owl from Blaise, saying that you might need some help and asking me to pop around and check in on you. You don’t look like you’re dying, so what’s the problem?”

Ron just sputters for a moment.

The other Auror looks at him a bit closer.

“Oh, I see,” he says smugly. “Somebody seems like they had a good night.”

Ron groans and covers his face with his arm.

Harry just chuckles and tosses him some clothes before stepping back towards the door.

“Put some bloody clothes on while I make you breakfast. Then you can tell me what the problem is with what seems to be an excellent fucking night with Blaise. Emphasis on the fucking,” he winks, and Ron wants to tell him to never ever do that again.

oOo

“So what’s on your mind?” Harry asks while he flips a pancake.

Ron slumps against the counter next to him, nursing a mug of piping hot tea.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he says numbly. “But Zabini-“

“-looks like a god and is polite and fun, and why not?” Harry asks, focusing on the pan in front of him to spare Ron from some scrutiny. “And the _Prophet_ already has you halfway down the aisle anyway.”

“Yeah,” Ron shrugs a bit helplessly. “I’m too tired to lie my way through this, mate. I’m bloody terrified that I ruined a perfectly good friendship-“

“You weren’t the only participant, Ron,” Harry responds, finishing plating up the extensive breakfast. “He was obviously interested, too.”

“But what if he just wanted a one-time thing-“

“Ron,” Harry says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Whatever rumors you heard are just rumors. People said all kinds of shit because of his mother. Don’t go putting words in his mouth like everyone else. Just because the Prophet’s been weird about you two forever doesn’t mean something organic couldn’t actually have come out from you fucking with everyone.”

Ron opens his mouth to protest and pauses. Then he sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I usually am,” Harry says brightly.

“No need to get carried away,” Ron replies dryly. “You’ve had maybe three good ideas in all the time we’ve known you, and most of those were spoonfed by Hermione-“

He laughs and dodges the plastic fork thrown at him.

oOo

Zabini just stares at him.

“…so instead of just asking me where I live or inviting me over, you decided to _Confund_ an owl, send me a letter and hitch a ride with the owl.”

“Surprise?” Ron bites out, dusting himself off as he steps through Zabini’s window.

“I didn’t even realize that was a thing you could do? Aren’t there charms against that?”

“Usually, yeah,” Ron replies. “I fiddled with them a little, because I’m brilliant.”

His owl flutters around near him, and then unhelpfully lands on his head.

Ron sighs. “Thanks a lot, Garlic.”

“You named your owl…Garlic?”

Ron wants to say that of course he didn’t mean to and that the stupid owl wouldn’t respond to anything else. But he’s tired from clinging to the fucking letter on the way over, so he just nods.

Zabini bursts out laughing.

oOo

Eventually, he stops laughing and offers Ron some tea.

“Look,” Ron starts. “I freaked out. I like you, Zabini, but I’m insecure about a lot of things-“

He gestures at Zabini with his teacup, because of course, Blaise Zabini has teacups.

“-you look like that, mate, and you’re brilliant and honestly quite funny- so why the hell would you want anything to do with me? I’m sorry, Zabini. You were probably just looking for some fun, but I just-“

Ron closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t really do- I’m kind of not great with the whole just for fun thing? I’ve tried it…kind of. Sxith year- Lavender. Bit of a disaster…but obviously, this was just about the rumors and stuff, and I’m totally fine with fucking around with the _Prophet_ until it becomes…you know, fucking around.”

He reaches up to brush his unruly hair out of his face, and Zabini catches his hand.

“Let me just stop you there, because I can clear up at least one of those things. I don’t really know what you’ve heard-“ he looks pained. “But I’m not really big on the one night stand thing either-“

“Oh, bloody hell,” Ron bites out, somehow avoiding a total freak out over Blaise Zabini holding his hand. “Listen, I didn’t mean it like that, Zabini. I swear, it has nothing to do with rumors or whatever, I don’t care about that shit. I just- I just don’t know where you and me- where we stand. And I don’t want to assume, because it’s just been about fucking with people. You could do so much better than a gangly redhead-“

“Could we tone down the self-deprecating?” Zabini says, immediately cutting him off. “I can clear up some more stuff, too. I’m very into you, Weasley. You’re smart and when you don’t think too hard about it, you’re hilarious. And you’re not fucking gangly, alright? You were gangly in Hogwarts, but you’ve filled out- I mean, fuck, Weasley, your legs are killing me-“

“ _My_ legs are killing _you_?” Ron shouts, pulling away from the other wizard’s grasp to gesticulate wildly at him. “Zabini-“

“And shut it with the Zabini this and Zabini that- just call me Blaise already. I’ve been dating you for weeks apparently according to your favorite newspaper, you wanker. The least you could do is pretend you know my name.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Ron says, continuing to wave his hands around. “ _Blaise_?”

He tacks it on as an afterthought, but then he’s quick to continue. “Look, this is just getting too complicated. I’m just going to leave the _Prophet_ out of this, because that’s garbage. So what the hell are we even arguing about?”

Blaise rubs a hand down his face. “You don’t seem to believe that I’d be interested in you as anything more than a quick fuck.”

“I just said- bloody hell, this is getting nowhere,” Ron says in frustration. “Right, I’m into you. I don’t believe the rumors that you sleep around, that’s got nothing to do with this, but I didn’t think-“

“Yes, I got that,” Blaise says testily. “I’m saying you apparently don’t understand why I’m interested in _you._ ”

“Yes!” Ron replies, throwing his hands up. “Exactly!”

Blaise just looks at him and sighs loudly over his teacup. “Why?”

“Why you couldn’t be interested in me?” Ron asks.

Blaise nods warily.

“Because what the hell do I bring to the table? Friend of the Chosen One? Sixth son of Arthur and Molly Weasley-“

“One of the best strategists the Auror department has ever seen? Brilliant inventor when you stop doubting yourself-“

“A fuck up who walks out on people when things get hard.”

Ron doesn’t mean to say it, but it comes out anyway just like everything else these days.

“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that,” Blaise says finally.

“I…have a bad tendency to leave people hanging when they need me,” Ron replies slowly.

“Right, well, I wasn’t around you for the war. I didn’t cross paths with you in Hogwarts much. The little I know about you is from Draco. And that’s obviously exaggerated, because that boy really didn’t like you. So I’m going to need some context.”

And because apparently Ron has no filter whatsoever, the whole story comes out. Halfway through, Blaise stops him for a moment.

“This sounds like a long story, and we evidently need sustenance. I have some leftovers we can heat up, and then we’re migrating to the sofa.”

It doesn’t sound like he’s asking, so Ron just quietly helps with the change in location and continues on with the story when prompted.

A long while later, Ron finally finishes the abridged version.

“-and that’s basically how the war ended. For me at least,” he says.

“Alright,” Blaise replies.

“Alright?” Ron asks. “Don’t you- don’t you want to run screaming for the hills or something?”

“Weasley-“

“Just call me Ron-“

“-Ron then, I get it. You’ve got your issues. I have my own. You’ve literally been dragged into them countless times since you pulled me out of that Ministry ball. I’m not trying to equate the two, but just because you’ve fucked up before doesn’t mean you’re fucking up with me now.”

“But what if I do?” Ron says, dragging a hand through his hair. “Then what?”

“You think you’re the only one who’s ever fucked up? What do you think seventh year was? You think I’m proud of that?”

“No, of course not,” Ron starts. “But look, this has been fun, but you deserve better than someone who’s just going to leave you when things get hard-“

“Ron, things have gotten hard already,” he throws a lascivious wink.

Despite his better judgment, Ron laughs.

“That was terrible, mate.”

Blaise shrugs. “The point is I don’t need you to have your shit together. I don’t either.”

“You sure about that?”

“Pretty sure,” he says. “I don’t expect you to have everything figured out. I’m just asking if you want to see where this goes.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

“What do you really want?” Ron finally sighs, trying to push aside the ever-present doubts and insecurities.

“You,” Blaise says. “And possibly a cat.”

“I’m agreeing to exactly one of those things,” Ron replies, leaning closer.

Blaise pretends to look downcast. “It’s the cat, isn’t it?”

“Get over here, you dork.”

oOo

“So what are we?”

“Blaise-“

“I’ve clearly been madly in love with you since before I was born. The _Prophet_ said so, so it must be true. So what are we?”

“You tell me.”

“Partners in crime?”

“I’m a bloody Auror, Blaise.”

“And I’m a spy. So what?”

“You’re a what?”

oOo

Ron’s pleasantly surprised when he finds that things are really easy with Blaise. Sure, they fight sometimes. And sometimes, they need breaks from each other. But…it’s remarkably easy.

Even Ginny notices.

“I’m disgusted that you of all people are dating someone this cool, but you’re cute together. Don’t fuck it up, Ronald,” she says.

Even his parents. They _love_ Blaise. He charms them the moment he walks through the door. Mum’s practically finished knitting him a Weasley sweater.

It’s actually rather sweet when she gives it to him for Christmas.

Blaise has talked a lot about his mother and how she just doesn’t care.

So he doesn’t outright cry when Mum gives him the blue sweater, but Ron swears he looks faintly misty eyed for a second.

He denies it, but Malfoy tosses Ron a galleon behind his back.

Blaise absolutely notices and blows a kiss at Malfoy when he sits back down.

Malfoy looks enraged, but Harry whispers something in his ear and he calms down.

Ron just smiles.

Thing’s are looking up.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I just had fun writing this. Sorry if characters are OOC. I just had a blast writing Ron just muddle through life. If this isn't your cup of tea, I totally get it. I just like exploring different pairings. Hope you enjoy and Happy Holidays!


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